Topic: ADD A VERSE | |
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The King has arisen from his heretic dream
T'was only a nightmare that seemed so obscene Now he rejoices with a poetic stream pouring out wisdom with a rhapsodic gleam Trumpets are blowing and the bards have aroused The merchants are selling the lyres they've housed The dancers are prancing to a rhythmical beat as the poets read verses as a lyrical treat King Tribo is dancing with the Queen of the Coins And his army of Aces has been sent to De Moines The kingdom is peaceful yet bustling with sound whilst David Ben pours out the drinks all around Everyone's happy and the land's full of cheer Music abounds as the poets drink beer Smiless has a grin that spans ear to ear And even the pixies will soon reappear The land of the forums is alive once again and Feral Cat Woman will play Mother Hen BushioBilly will share knowledge of Zen And all will find wisdom in the words of Dave Ben We'll dance through the night and share our delight and everyone's words will be kind and polite No horrid decrees of heathens and thieves The Witches serve potions from Bayberry leaves Magic belongs to the spirits of men the source of the sorcery's hidden in Zen The face on the coins is all we can know the only true secret is to let you love show ![]() ![]() ![]() |
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Edited by
Jeanniebean
on
Tue 08/26/08 04:56 PM
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I don't like adding verses to other people's poems.
I'm writing love poems today. This one is about "soul lovers" who have wandered many incarnations and have not found each other yet. We almost met - ![]() We could have had our love at last We brushed shoulders as we passed Same hotel, same town, You went upstairs, I went down We almost met; You would have lit my cigarette By life’s cruel joke, I didn’t smoke. You went left and I went right We both slept alone that night I know you’re here; I’ve searched the land I’ve seen your footprints In the sand. How many lives must I endure Before I touch your hand? ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Jeanniebean 8/26/2008 |
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If a quixotic socrates studied zen under Zorba...?
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Edited by
tribo
on
Tue 08/26/08 06:16 PM
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If a quixotic socrates studied zen under Zorba...? then you'd have a foolish feta bhuddaholic |
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Was Zorba the Greek really a freak?
Is Aristotle's philosophy up for critique? Were Socrates' thoughts esoterically weak? Is a Golden Monkey MirrorMirror's physique? The answers to questions we constantly seek but when answers are given we think they are bleak we call them opinions that people just speak and refuse to accept them as a truth that's unique ![]() |
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Was Zorba the Greek really a freak? Is Aristotle's philosophy up for critique? Were Socrates' thoughts esoterically weak? Is a Golden Monkey MirrorMirror's physique? The answers to questions we constantly seek but when answers are given we think they are bleak we call them opinions that people just speak and refuse to accept them as a truth that's unique ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
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Abra....great poetry as always.
A suggestion.... instead of saying anymore about christianity.. a subject which you are opposed to... how about from now on, just concentrating on subjects you are not opposed to.....and continue on with your gifts...such as writing poetry...cause you indeed, have a gift there. ![]() Focus and concentrate on the positve...positive words only.. no more negativity in any way...not even one word..... ![]() Doing so is going to bring about some mighty unexpected powerful changes in your life. Shared from the heart...cause this has been on my heart for you. ![]() |
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I don't like adding verses to other people's poems. I'm writing love poems today. This one is about "soul lovers" who have wandered many incarnations and have not found each other yet. We almost met - ![]() We could have had our love at last We brushed shoulders as we passed Same hotel, same town, You went upstairs, I went down We almost met; You would have lit my cigarette By life’s cruel joke, I didn’t smoke. You went left and I went right We both slept alone that night I know you’re here; I’ve searched the land I’ve seen your footprints In the sand. How many lives must I endure Before I touch your hand? ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Jeanniebean 8/26/2008 You are quite the gifted poetess yourself, Jeannie ![]() ![]() ![]() |
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Edited by
mykeymyx
on
Wed 08/27/08 03:29 AM
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am I the one to rhyme this time?
it can`t be me I forget my lines if it`s ok can we call this fine it`s no one elses. it`s all but mine I walk my path, those prints in sand I do not know who holds my hand I only do whatever I can If you don`t like me .. (it`s) part of the plan & i`m only here as long as I stand when I fall .. that`s it that`s all my name`s been called my bearer is pall |
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now i`m dead
i`ve cleared my head no more worries about daily bread the world`s quarrels are far from through when will we see our Earth subdue? I wouldn`t ask if only I knew.. so tell me now & answer true when i am stuck what shall I do? My answers come not, from fellow man Their ideals I cannot stand I live my life, I make my choices when i do not speak, I dislike my voices so take my actions, thoughts & intentions.. Then give me my Divine Intervention pave my roads, 24 carat gold to the heavens my soul is sold I get my wings, all precious things i`ll share with you. We`ll live like kings |
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